


Sex and Violence

by Triangulum



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cousin Incest, F/M, R plus L equals J, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:16:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8309884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triangulum/pseuds/Triangulum
Summary: Arya is always excited after a fight, and fights arent something they are lacking. But in her rooms or his, the outside world doesn't matter. They aren't Arya Stark and Jon Snow, cousins in control of Winterfell. They aren't a skilled assassin and a warrior. In here, they're just Arya and Jon, young lovers taking joy and pleasure in each other.
Or
Just smut, because I'm trash.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm apparently just not contributing anything of substance. I'm rolling around a college au idea? Maybe? I don't know. Thanks for all the support from the last fic, you guys are great!

Arya's always excited after a fight, and fights are something they're not lacking. Some of the lesser houses hear that the Starks are back at Winterfell and think that it's ripe for the taking. They don't count on Bran seeing them coming, or Sansa having reached out and helped Jon gather allies. They don't count on Jon as a commander, or Arya's viciousness. Sad, hastily thrown together armies come and go, lucky if they're able to crawl back to their lords with their tails between their legs. Most are unlucky and find themselves cut down where they stand. And it never fails to get Arya's blood rushing. Jon doesn't know if it's the excitement from the battle or the thrill of still being alive, but he never argues when she takes him by the hand and pulls him to one of their rooms. Tormund always gives him a wink when they pass by.

 

In her rooms or his, the outside world doesn't matter. They aren't Arya Stark and Jon Snow, cousins in control of Winterfell. They aren't a skilled assassin and a warrior. In here, they're just Arya and Jon, young lovers taking joy and pleasure in each other.

 

Jon lets Arya push him back onto the bed, his bare back hitting the soft furs. She'd stripped him out of his clothes the second the door had closed behind them. Jon watches as she undoes the laces of her breeches, letting them fall to the floor. His eyes hungrily take in each inch of skin revealed with her tugging her tunic over her head and tossing it to the side. She crawls up the bed until she's straddling him. They're both still dirty, and there's a smear of blood near her temple. Neither care.

 

"Arya," Jon breathes, then gasps as she rocks against him, sliding his length along the folds of her cunt.

 

Arya grins as she moves her hips, bracing her hands on Jon's strong chest. He has to struggle to keep his eyes open in the face of the pleasure from Arya's slick folds rubbing against his cock, but he wants to see her. He tries to reach between her legs, but she slaps his hand away.

 

"Let me," she says.

 

Arya takes his cock in her hand, stroking it a few times before positioning it at her opening, slowly lowering herself down. Jon's hands are tight on her waist, tight enough to leave fingertip-shaped bruises. She rides him hard and fast, their hips meeting with loud, wet noises. Jon bucks up into her when her legs start to tire, then rolls them, placing Arya onto all fours and fucking into her from behind.

 

Arya's noises get desperate then, louder and higher-pitched.  She drops to one elbow and slips a hand between her legs. She's works at that sensitive nub, occasionally brushing against where Jon's pounding into her. Jon quickens his pace when he feels her start to tense around him. He slides a hand down her back, dragging his nails over her skin and making her whine.

 

"Jon," she gasps. "I'm so close."

 

He cups one of her breasts in his hand, twisting at her nipple until she's screaming, her cunt clenching around him as she comes. Jon pulls out just long enough to turn her onto her back, then thrusts into her again, slamming into her fluttering cunt with a wet, squelching noise. As much as he loves fucking her from behind, especially when they're both in a mood like this, he still wants to see her face when he finishes. Arya stares up at him, eyes lidded with pleasure, clutching at his arms.

 

"Come on," she says, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Please, Jon..."

 

Jon shouts when he finishes, filling her up with his seed. He'd be worried, Arya has no desire to be a mother yet, but she's been to the maester,  who provides her with a drink to prevent that. Which is perfect, because they both love it when he stays inside her, carefully lying with only some of his weight on her. They love him to keep her full until he softens and slips out, a trickle of his release following.

 

He's loves it when they can come together sweetly and slowly, when he can take her apart and put her back together again. But he loves this too, the passion and fire and reminder that they're both here, that they're both alive. Most of all, he just loves her.


End file.
